Giving and Living Thanks

An idea board hangs on the door of the two- and three-year-old class at Lala’s preschool. At the top it reads, “What We Know About Clothes.” One line catches my attention: “Corduroy is kind of like crackers.”

So yesterday morning I’m snuggled warm under my cozy corduroy patchwork quilt and think that these squares do feel like the best kind of crackers minus the crumbs. I enjoy glimpses of the dining room table and the sideboard dresser, of the top of the bookshelf and the side table touched softly by Christmas.

It all feels like tender gift.

To my left are two stacks of red books, and on top of one stack the Christmas matryoshka dolls. I feel the wood in my hands, the smooth of their glaze as I take them apart one at a time, and again. The snowman with the small spring green tree in its middle; the big Santa with the small solid Santa at its center.

I count the parts, put them back together, and it is a meditation. I feel transported to another time as I open and push shut, feel little girl me and grownup me at once.

I sit with the Psalms laid across my lap, and I read words of anguish and thanks, of running and longing, and I am pulled back to another time.

I am right here, but I’m also right there in the folds of those words.

After writing for so many days about right here, the last month seems to have been more about simply living it. Living the (extra)ordinary mundane while taking trips back to older days. Because there’s the scheduling via email, the giving away of baby items and recycling of school papers. There are the familiar questions about purpose, significance and mission among the loads to charity, school conferences and service projects.

Around here, we are easing our way into this Christmas season (as much as that can be done) as we belt out the carols and snip the white paper snowflakes, as we unwrap decorations and think about making gifts. In the midst of the swirl, I’m trying to hold on to last month’s giving of thanks because I long for thanks and giving to go hand in hand.

As I feel the clamor and risings of responsibility and memory making, I remember anew the choice to give thanks or live stressed.

I know which one I want to choose. This morning I’m carrying forward in my heart the house full of family. Sleeping bags everywhere, sharing a house with my sister, our niece and nephews and brother-in-law. The humor of ten people jockeying for one bathroom.

I don’t know why it took me until the last few years to recognize the need to carry gratitude forward into this season. Much unraveling of “do, do, do” to receive the beauty of what is and doesn’t need to be bought or made. Thank you for hearing my heart, friend. You exude such gracious gratitude, my friend.

Ashley – I am carrying paper and mama and daddy and sista and brother, girls and boys and laughter and hugs and yummy food and a roof over our head and a song in our hearts… Thanks for inviting me to carry along with you the thankfulness of each day.
Hugs,
Kelly

Hey friend, I’m so with you in this and I love the beauty of your words as you express your desire for thanks and giving to go hand in hand. YES. It’s my desire too. Actually more like my desperate need. Give thanks or live stressed. Oh how I need to choose thanksgiving in every. single. moment.

Oh, yes, you’re echoing the cry of my heart here— giving and thanks and living it all moment by moment, gift by gift. How do you make ordinary life ring with extraordinary beauty in this place? You have a gift, dear friend. And I’m THANKFUL that you share it. Wish I could fly you to my ordinary home and just savor the mundane and the marvelous together for a day. Hmm… dreaming… :) Love to you!

I love the way you’ve spoken the choice we have: give thanks or live stressed. It really is that simple isn’t it? I love too seeing the way that all the beautiful writing you gave us for a month of “right here” is now living itself out in all the simple moments of your {extra}ordinary days! Imagine, corduroy like crackers and paper bits from handmade snowflakes. This is Life..and you dear girl know it fully!

Thank you, Mama, for making those connections. It can feel a bit a mystery why I wrote for those 31 days anyway. :-) But I do feel it’s a part of the remaking of me, helping me be right here with new joy and gratitude. xoxo

Categories

Archives

On Instagram

On Pinterest

On Twitter

Disclosure

Some links on my site are affiliate links, which means I receive a small compensation if you purchase the product or service. The compensation, however, will never influence the content, topics or posts made on this blog. I only link to products I have used and personally recommend.